


Mutalism

by afairlypudgycat



Category: Warframe
Genre: It's just one alad I just did that for tagging purposes, Other, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afairlypudgycat/pseuds/afairlypudgycat
Summary: Really kinky porn where Lephantis fucks Alad V and they all have fun.





	Mutalism

Alad… felt a calling.  A calling in his body, a yearning in his mind.   He had to… to go. Somewhere. Where? He wasn’t sure.  The infestation was _pushing him,_ and he didn’t particularly like it, but it wasn’t a strong push.  It was a nagging thought. What _was_ out there?  In the deep dark depths of space?  Not quite in the Void, but in a void in and of itself.  There was… something there.

 

The commandeered corpus ship was not as fast as it had once been.  The infested had grown throughout the engines, filling the circuitry, running the computers and guidance systems in a way he hadn’t previously realized was possible.  He sat at the helm of the ship, on the bridge, watching the dark stars before him.

 

The infested flora on the center console wrapped around his hands, stroked his hands gently, urged him on.

 

Before this he had never imagined the infestation could be so… gentle.  A kinder touch than any human’s. He felt… wanted. For the first time in his life.  He didn’t have to _demand_ to be useful.  To be wanted. He didn’t have to _show_ the infested hive mind that he was worthy.  And that was an intoxicating thought.

 

He ran a finger up the stalk of the infested tendril, and at the end of it when he pulled his finger away, the tendril slowly followed him.  He brushed the tendril back between his finger and his thumb, rubbing it gently, watching as it splayed a sort of flower. It was… beautiful.

 

There was beauty in the infestation.  It wasn’t a cruel thing. Yes it took away isolated individuality, but Alad was still himself.  He still heard the voices of those who had long lost their physical bodies-- it was a society within an organic data mass.  These people lived on in the mind of the infested. It was… beautiful. A true afterlife. And he wanted to be a part of it.

 

Just.  Not yet.  He had work he had to do.

 

But wherever he was heading… He wanted to be there.

 

He dozed, though the mutalist parts of him did not sleep, and when he awoke a large ship was in view.  An Orokin ship. Derelict, but still together. Almost entirely consumed by infested flesh.

 

The ships latched onto each other - their docking systems replaced with the mutalist bodies, clinging to each other like two mouths.  The tendrils sprouting along the halls leaned towards Alad as he moved forward. He wasn’t sure what he was in for, but he _knew_ he wanted it.  He wouldn’t have come with such certainty otherwise.  And. A part of him knew what he was in for.

 

A loud whispy voice echoed through the halls, calling him in a language he did not know but in words he understood.  As he walked, as if in a trance, he came to realize it was not _one_ voice but _three._

 

_Alad.  Alad come to us._

 

He ran a hand over the tendrils, though he did not look back at them, they blossomed as they touched him.  They were soft, softer than anything he’d ever felt made by man. He hummed as he moved, the infestation humming with him.  

 

He came to a large door, large enough to let a small space craft pass through it.

 

The room was dark; dark enough that he could not see.  Still, he stepped in. After all… this is what he had come for.  He felt a much larger presence in the room, a vague awareness of some large mass of life.  It was a welcome feeling. The life in this room _wanted_ him.  Wanted him desperately like no one had ever wanted him before.

 

A thick tendril slipped against his back and brushed against his neck.  It didn’t take much for him to remove the collar. Then his hood. He leaned into the palm of the tendril and let it stroke his aging balding head.  Small strands of it brushing his cheeks. Mingling with his own tendrils. The voices echoed through the room again, though Alad could not tell where they were coming from.

 

That is.  Until he felt a large mass at his back.  One that radiated heat like a warm blooded creature.  He turned to look at the large ancient infested, and a hand -- a true human hand -- extended from the mass to brush his cheek and tilt his head up to see the three large heads of the creature.

 

_We are Lephantis.  We want you to be a part of us, Alad._

 

The hand brushed his shoulder and jaw again and again, stroking him into a sort of calm. This creature… it wasn’t the core of the infested, Alad knew that, but it was a pillar of it.  He could almost make out human faces in the flesh, and perhaps that should have scared him… but it didn’t. There was comfort to it. A recognizable remnant of someone in the conglomerate.  

 

The hand had a pair, and the two set to removing Alad’s robes.  They ran down his chest as they peeled off his shirt. He hadn’t removed any piece of clothing since he took this path.  It was strange. He felt far more naked now than he had ever been, and yet… he felt safe.

 

The hands continued to stroke and pet as Alad leaned against Lephantis.  It wasn’t the hands that undid his boots but rather prehensile tendrils. He slowly stepped out of them as the large Infested continued to undress him until he had nothing left to remove.

 

His own infested tendrils reached out and intertwined with Lephantis’s.  

 

“I’m not.  I’m not ready to join you.  I have to. Keep working. You see. There is.  Much to do. Many people. Hhng. To convince.”

 

_As you wish._

 

Still the tendrils brushed against him seeming to coax a heat in him.  A fire to be fanned. His knees went weak as a thicker tendril moved its way up his leg.  Alad groaned as it pressed against his groin, and when he fell forward, the two hands caught him and pulled him against Lephantis.  

 

_This?  Do you want this?_

 

Alad’s mind was foggy, but the ancient didn’t move further until he answered.

 

“What is… this?”

 

_Simple pleasure.  Nothing to bind you._

 

He smiled against the grey tough skin before him.

 

“Then _yes._ ”

 

The tendril continued to stroke the front of his groin, brushing against his enlarged clit, slipping between the outer lips but not yet within.  Alad felt secure in the grip, but he himself wanted to grab, to hold. He dug a hand into Lephantis as the tendril continued to grind against him.  He gasped as the tendril blossomed into a palm of smaller tendrils. It was no longer a thin grey stalk but rather a fingerless hand. He moaned as it rubbed against him, the smaller diminutive tendrils clinging to his clit as the rest of the arm moved.

 

Once he was properly aroused, another tendril slipped up his leg, but unlike the first one this one was slick with some sort of fluid.  It pressed against the opening to his vagina, gently, before squirming to slip in. It didn’t go far before it continued to squirm, to loosen him.  To work him up and frustrate him. This one also bloomed within him, the small tendrils locking on to a cluster of nerves just above his entrance, and while they didn’t do much yet, the pressure was glorious.  

 

Alad’s breaths grew deeper and quicker.  He was trying to stay steady, but he felt more tendrils at his feet reaching up, sliding up his weak legs.  He swallowed as a third tendril began to push into him -- it was far larger than the previous one, yet it slipped in with ease.  He wasn’t sure what the fluid was on the tendrils, but they were, perhaps, the most effective sexual lubricant he’d ever come across.  A part of him was worried it was _too_ effective.  That he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the sensation of what was inside of him because of it.

 

Before he could worry for long, the thick tendril began to move inside him.  It was pleasant, certainly, but not quite satisfying. As if reading his mind, two more thick tendrils, each fatter than the last, began to slide up him.   _How_ they fit he had no idea.  But he couldn’t seem to care.  He was absolutely stuffed, and the gentle thrusts were driving him wild.  They pumped in him in unison. He moaned and grit his teeth as he tried to hold on to himself, but a sixth tendril slid up him.  He gasped as he thought it was going to try to push into him as well, but it did not stop at his groin. It slid up his chest, wrapping around him, and slipping into his open mouth.

 

Alad sucked on the tendril greedily.  With every passing moment, he grew closer and closer to orgasm.  So concerned was he with his high that he didn’t seem to notice his own tendrils were leaning towards the budded ones of Lephantis.  

 

Lephantis seemed to be growing more desperate -- the thrusts of the tendrils within him grew faster and faster, heavier and stronger.  The sensation on his clit grew stronger, and before Alad could reach his peak, Lephantis did.

 

A sort of fluid burst from the tendrils within Alad as they blossomed and filled him.  Alad came shortly after Lephantis did as the sensation of being filled pushed him over.  Their external tendrils blossomed, mingled, and latched on to each other.

 

Alad vaguely heard a roar from one of the heads, but he was fading into a deep sleep.  A sleep where he could now hear the individuals within Lephantis. Grineer. Corpus. Orokin.  Non-aligned. He dreamt of their hands holding him, stroking him, loving him.

 

And when he awoke, he was fully clothed back on his ship.  And perhaps, he thought, his delving into the Infested was a good choice after all.


End file.
